


Would You Like Some Tea?

by chris--daae (AILiSeki)



Category: Le Fantôme de l'Opéra | Phantom of the Opera & Related Fandoms
Genre: F/M, Gen, completely platonic e/c
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-12
Updated: 2017-09-21
Packaged: 2018-10-31 00:37:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10888239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AILiSeki/pseuds/chris--daae
Summary: Erik thinks he is the best of hosts. Not everyone agrees.





	1. Prologue

The only sound was from the faint movement of the lake's water. The two men stared at each other. Nadir studied Erik's body language, as his eyes showed only disapproval.  
"Are you just going to stand there like a fool, daroga?", Erik asked, his voice sounding impatient.  
"You can't be serious.", was all Nadir could say.  
"Do I look like I am kidding for you?"  
Nadir shook his head.  
"You can't possibly believe what you just told me."  
"What is so hard to believe? Christine loves me! She loves me for who I am! You thought this impossible?"  
"Yes!", Nadir shouted, before he could think of his words.  
Maybe it wasn't impossible. Erik had a beautiful voice and an undeniable talent, a few traits that a young singer could find admirable. Still, to think that a young, beautiful woman like Christine Daaé would willingly follow a man like him to the cellars... that was too much for Nadir to picture.  
"Well, you were wrong.", Erik whispered. "She loves me, and we will be very happy together. And you, old _friend_ , should stop putting your nose where you're not called."  
"Erik, you-"  
"Leave, Nadir!", Erik shouted.  
It was the first time in years that Nadir heard his name being spoke aloud. He felt a shiver running through his spine. Erik would not let himself be convinced otherwise about this girl. It worried Nadir to no end. If Erik was right, if Christine did love him- and he seemed to really believe she did, and in his defense Nadir never _saw_ anything that proved otherwise- then this was really good news. Maybe he could even hope she could make Erik stop his wicked ways forever.  
But Nadir knew Erik, knew how unstable he was, knew the ugliness he hid behind his mask and all the blood that stained his hands. If the poor girl did not love Erik, if this was only an illusion of his troubled mind or if he was forcing her to pretend, one way or another, then it could only end in tragedy. Not only for her, but for everyone.  
Nadir turned away and started walking, but turned back to Erik one last time.  
"Does she even know anything about you?"  
"What do you mean?"  
"Did she ever see you? The real you?"  
"It does not matter! Our love is beyond such mundane things."  
"But surely she knows what you do for a living. Or where you come from. If she loves you so much, she must know everything there is to know about you, right?"  
Erik did not reply. Nadir knew he was threading a dangerous territory, but he hoped to make Erik see reason. It was better to make him realize on his own what Christine's real feelings were as soon as possible, than to allow this madness to go any further.  
"If she loves you, she probably already confessed it in beautiful words, right?"  
"Leave! I don't want to see you near my home ever again!", Erik shouted, before his own figure disappeared. Nadir sighed.  
He had a terrible feeling about this.

Christine walked around the drawing room, as if searching for something. Erik arrived silently, going unnoticed until he was just a few steps from Christine.  
"You arrived.", she said, calming her breathe.  
"Is something wrong?", Erik asked.  
"You were not here when I woke up so I was looking for something to do. Books, perhaps."  
"Books.", Erik nodded. "Just a minute."  
Christine watched as he left the living room. By now she should already be used by how silently and fast he moved, seeming to appear and disappear to nowhere, but she couldn't help but be scared when she saw him behind her when she believed to be alone.  
Soon Erik was back, carrying a couple of books.  
"I don't have many romances, so I thought you would like some poetry.", he said, handing the books to Christine. She accepted them with a smile.  
"Thank you."  
Christine took the books and sat down on a couch. Erik took a seat by his piano. Christine expected to hear his beautiful melodies, but they didn't come. She lifted her eyes from the pages and saw that he just stared at the keys.  
"Erik?", she asked, her voice showing some worry.  
Erik suddenly stood up, so abruptly that his stool fell making a loud noise. Christine flinched.  
"I don't get it.", Erik said, his voice low.  
"What?", Christine asked, careful. She placed the book aside, wanting to show her full attention was on him.  
"You!", he took a few steps in her direction. "I don't understand. I did everything I could for you. Everything you could ask for, I gave you. I made your dreams come true. I made you the best singer of all Paris, maybe of all Europe! I showered you in gifts! How come that after all of this, after all that I did for you, you still don't love me?"  
Christine felt a shiver. Erik's voice was still relatively calm, but his hands trembled, as if he was holding himself back. From what, she dared not think.  
Erik never spoke that way with her before. He had confessed his love, but never asked for her to love him back. He gave her gifts, but never asked for anything in return. Christine was scared. Did he reach the limit of his patience?  
Erik saw the fear in her eyes. He took a step back.  
"I just... I want to understand.", he said, in a softer tone. "I want to do this right. You know how I feel about you, don't you?"  
"Of course I do.", Christine whispered.  
Erik fell to his knees.  
"What do I have to do for you to feel the same for me?"  
"You can't just make someone love you, Erik."  
"Just a little bit, Christine. I just need a little bit. I just want you to feel something for me. Something that is not horror, or pity... or hate. Anything. Can't you feel anything good for your poor Erik?"  
He was crying. Christine could tell, even if she could not see it very well. She knew the way his voice cracked, the way his shoulders shook. She closed her eyes.  
"I can't."  
"Why not? Because you have seen me? Because you know my hideous face? Is that why, Christine?", his voice raised.  
Christine shook her head, her own tears threatening to fall.  
"No."  
"Don't lie to me, Christine! I know how I look, I know it very well. You can't stand it. Even if I cover it, you can still see it, right? I can see it too. Even if I never see my reflection ever again, I still can always see it, every time I close my eyes."  
"It's not because of your face!", it was Christine's turn to raise her voice. "I could get used to it. I could get used to this place. I could even forgive your lies. But..."  
Christine stopped. Her hands trembled, and she gripped the fabric that covered the couch to hide it.  
"But what? Tell me! What is it that I lack, that makes me unworthy of any affection from you?"  
Christine took a deep breath.  
"I can't take this. I can't take feeling trapped, like a prisoner."  
"A prisoner?", Erik raised his head. "You are not a prisoner. Don't I allow you to go and come as you wish? Didn't I swear to protect you, to not do you any harm? By your wish, I do not hear from your dressing room anymore. Did I ever break any of my promises? I even allow you to meet that boy."  
"See, that's the problem!", Christine did not know where she took the courage to say such things from, but now that she started, she could not stop. "'Allow'? Why do you need to _allow_ me to anything? I should not need your permission. I do not belong to you!" Her hand unconsciously touched the ring she wore, that Erik made her wear. For her, it felt heavier than any chains.  
Erik's eyes followed her hand to the ring. His tears stopped, as he silently stared at it. It bothered Christine, she could not see his expression, she could not tell what he was thinking. She did not know if she should be afraid, or if she should just keep quiet at once, or if he even was giving her words any consideration.  
"You... you never considered my feelings." She expected him to retort, to reaffirm all the _great things_ he did for her, but Erik remained silent. "I know you did a lot for me, and I don't want to seem unthankful. But... but I never asked for any of it! If I knew that it came with so high a price, I would never have accepted any of it! It's unfair, that you offered it to me without any warning, and now you demand things from me."  
Erik still didn't express any reaction, and Christine felt tired. He would never understand. He did whatever he wanted, with no limits or restrains, not even the ones from the law. He would never understand what it felt like to have your freedom taken from you.  
Her tears started falling, and she let out a defeated sigh.  
"I can't even talk to my friends, without fearing what _you_ will think, what _you_ will do.", she said in a low voice, sure that now she was speaking only to herself. "I have never felt so alone in my whole life, not even when father-", she interrupted herself, not wanting her voice to sound as broken as she felt. "I would gladly give up singing forever, if it meant I could have the rest of my life back."  
"Christine!", Erik shouted.  
So that he heard. Christine stood up, turning her back to him.  
"I am serious, Erik.", she said, before running to her room.  
She closed the door and fell to the floor, sobbing loudly. What possessed her to say such things? There went any chances she had of getting on Erik's good side, and with it any chances of getting her freedom. Would he even let her leave his house after this outburst?  
She heard the loud sound of something breaking. Together with it, whatever it was, broke all hopes she had of seeing the daylight again.

Christine wasn't sure of how long passed. She dozed off for a moment or two. She heard some more breaking and crashing from the other room, but it was quiet now. Her tears were already dry, but she still feared her next encounter with Erik.  
Three knocks on the door, too soon for her taste. She raised her head from where it rested, on her legs, but did not feel like standing up.  
"Christine?", Erik called. "Are you in there?"  
"Yes.", she replied.  
A few moments of silence.  
"The moment you go back up there, you will run into his arms, won't you?", he asked, his voice soft, but cold. "You will run away with him."  
"Does it matter?" Christine did sound as tired as she was. Too tired to fight, too tired to hide how she felt. "Do I only deserve my freedom if I do with it what you desire?"  
No reply. She realized that his answer to anything unpleasant to him was to just ignore it. What an easy life.  
"May I open the door?", he asked.  
"Just a minute."  
Christine stood up, hoping she didn't look so pitiful. She put her hands on her hair, trying to fix it. Then, she opened the door herself.  
Erik reached his hand out. Christine just stared at it.  
"Hand.", he simply said.  
Slowly, Christine put her hand over his. He slid the ring out of her finger, and put it into his pocket, quickly letting go of her hand.  
"What-", Christine started, confused.  
"You won't need it anymore.", Erik explained. "Come, I will take you back up."  
Could this be true, or was she only dreaming? Was it really happening, or was it another cruel trick? Christine wondered and wondered as she followed Erik, both of them walking silent by the dark tunnels.  
They finally arrived at the passage behind the mirror, and for the first time Christine saw Erik using the switch that opened it. She stepped inside the dressing room, but he stayed in the dark passage.  
She stared at him, waiting for him to state his conditions any moment.  
Instead, he put a small object in her hand. A key.  
"I will not bother you anymore. You may forget that I exist, if you wish so.", Erik whispered. His voice was cold, like she never heard from him before.  
Christine looked at the key in her hand.  
"It opens the passage from Rue Scribe.", he explained. "You may give it to the managers, to the police, I don't care."  
She was confused for a moment, before she understood what it meant. It was a proof he was giving her that she could trust him to leave her alone. Christine looked up at him, unbelieving.  
"Do whatever will make you happy, Christine. Goodbye."  
Before she could say anything, Erik took a step behind and closed the mirror. Christine stared at her own reflection, her eyes still red, her eyebrows raised and her mouth open.  
Erik ran, until he arrived at a point from where he knew she could not hear him anymore, and then he ran some more just to be safe. Then, he let his body fall to the ground and cried, cried all he could.  
This was the hardest decision in all his life, but maybe the only one that was good. Yes, he did not care what Christine would do with the key to his lair or with all the secrets she knew, because without her he was a dead man already. Still, how could he keep killing her? How could he force an angel to keep visiting hell, beside a demon like himself? No, he was cruel, but not this cruel. Christine may not love him, but he loved her with all of his being, and he never wanted to see her breaking down like she did earlier.  
Even if it meant he was to die alone in the cellars.


	2. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If you love someone, let them go. If they come back, offer them tea.

Erik did not die.  
The following days were very ordinary, actually. He slept, and he cooked, and played some music to distract himself. He cleaned his room, and he checked his traps, and a few times he just sat outside, looking at the lake.  
There was sadness inside of him, but not the unbearable sadness that filled him before at the mere thought of losing Christine. Though he missed her more than any words in any language could possibly express, life went on. It was strange.  
Erik did not want to check what was happening above, in the opera. He hoped his lack of activity did not made the managers forget his salary. He did not want to risk hearing any news about Christine, or seeing her if she was still around. It would be too much, the temptation would be too big. It was better to stay home, alone, where he really belonged.  
It had been already one week since Erik said goodbye to Christine. The day started like any other ordinary day. He ate breakfast and cleaned the kitchen, then went to the drawing room and decided to study for a while.  
Then, he heard the sound. Footsteps. Close, too close. He at first thought it would be the Persian, that annoying fellow. But he remembered the Persian had no means of crossing the lake without him knowing. The only person who could get so close to his domain without him noticing was Christine. Well, her or whoever she gave the key to.  
Erik felt strangely peaceful. So, this was how it ended. He was ready for it. He heard only one set of footsteps, so it was only one person. Good, good. It would not get too messy.  
Erik did not bother to get his mask from the table where it rested. He liked the idea that the person who was to take his life would have to deal with a lifetime of nightmares. A last farewell gift.  
He waited. And waited. The footsteps were slow, and stopped a few times before continuing. There was nowhere for them to get lost, so it could only mean they were hesitant. Erik would have laughed if he wasn't so impatient.  
At last, a figure appeared by the door. It was not a stagehand, or a fireman, or a guard. It was a short and young blonde woman.  
Erik's hands raised immediately to his face, and he jumped up from the couch, turning away from the door.  
"What are you doing here?", he asked, his voice low and calm, though he felt anything but.  
Christine asked herself the same question. What was she doing there? After all thar happened, she should never want to step on that house again. Still, something seemed to call her back there. She needed to be sure. Before she decided to do anything, before she could go on with her life, she needed to be sure that Erik said the truth.  
At least, that was how she reasoned with herself.  
"I thought I would find you here.", she said.  
Erik took slow steps to the table, to get his mask. He did not dare to face Christine like that, but he yearned to look at her, to make sure that this was real, that she was really there.  
"Well, where else would I be?", he said, a small smile appearing on his lips. He finally reached for his mask, and quickly put it on.  
Christine looked as beautiful as always. Her blonde hair was tied, and she wore a blue dress, light enough for the warm weather but still modest. Erik found himself unable to read her expression.  
"I just don't understand why you would want to find me.", he finally said.  
Christine looked down to the key she held.  
"I didn't know if it would work."  
"As you can see, it does.", Erik replied, a bit offended. Even when he tried to do something right, he was met with distrust.  
At least Christine had a reason to not trust him, though.  
Christine blushed slightly. She had believed from the beginning that it was the real key, but she still needed to check it for herself.  
"I don't plan on leaving this place in the near future.", Erik added. "So you don't need to worry."  
Christine nodded.  
Some seconds that felt like an eternity for both passed. Erik wondered why Christine didn't leave already, now that she had asserted what she wanted to, but at the same time he didn't want her to. Christine asked herself the same question.  
"I thought you might feel lonely here."  
Erik raised an eyebrow.  
"Loneliness has never been a problem for me, you don't need to worry about it."  
"Well," Christine looked away. "I felt lonely too."  
Erik blinked a few times, unable to believe the words he was hearing. That had to be some play, some trick from his mind. He decided to play along.  
"Please, take a seat.", he pointed to the couch. "Would you like some tea?"  
Christine wasn't sure of how to respond, as that was not the reaction she was expecting from him. In the end, she sat down and showed an awkward smile.  
"Yes, thank you."  
Erik walked to the kitchen, thankful that he had an excuse to leave. He closed the door.  
"What the hell?", he whispered to himself.  
That was it. He went completely mad. Or maybe he was already dead, and this was what happened in the afterlife. Heaven or Hell, he wondered. Having Christine near him was better than any description of Heaven, but he knew his own luck, and at any moment this could shatter and cause him a pain worst than the flames of Hell.  
Better make the tea.  
Christine waited, feeling embarrassed. She didn't know why she said what she said. It was not a lie, but not something that she wished him to know.  
The truth was that she missed him. Not all of him, of course. She did not miss the constant fear of being watched, or having to think over and over each sentence she spoke. But when it came to Erik, there was much more to him than just that. When he was not weeping or shouting, he could be a nice company, and that was what she missed.  
Erik arrived with the tea. He offered a cup to her, and sat down on the other couch, as far from her as possible.  
"Why did you not go to the Vicomte?", he asked, eyes down.  
"It does not concern you.", Christine answered. He gave her a questioning look. "Really, it has nothing to do with you."  
"I am sure he could quickly cure your loneliness.", Erik didn't intend to sound as bitter as he did.  
"I don't doubt it.", Christine nodded, sipping on her tea.  
Erik lowered his gaze to his own hands.  
"Are you still afraid?", he whispered.  
"Not anymore.", Christine replied. "I trust you."  
"Really?"  
"Why would you lie about this? To catch me in some sick trap? This is not the kind of person you are."  
"I am capable of many things that would scare you, Christine."  
"I know.", Christine sounded more secure in her affirmation than she really felt. "But this would not be like you."  
Erik nodded. Even in his worst moment, letting Christine go and punishing her for not coming back was not his style. If he had it his way, he would never leave her for even one second.  
But he knew his way would cause her only unhappiness, and he did not want that. When did her happiness become more important than his own?  
"Since now you are respecting me as a human being, I thought I could do the same for you.", Christine explained.  
"You don't need to."  
"I know."  
"I don't deserve it."  
Christine shrugged.  
"I still want to do it." She stared into his eyes. Erik felt exposed, as if she could see much more than he wished to show. "I want to know who you are. Behind the tricks and fantasies. Not the Angel or the Phantom, I want to know who Erik is."  
"I don't think you will like him.", he looked away. There was a reason he hid behind so many personas, so many masks other than the one on his face.  
"Do you have anything to lose? I don't think it could be worse than... you know."  
Erik gave it some thought. Christine has seen and endured some terrible behavior from him. At least he would be able to see and talk to her a few more times before she realized that he was just as bad as he seemed and gave up. There was indeed not much to lose.  
Besides, he knew Christine could be very insistent for what she wished.  
"You have the key. You may visit whenever you wish. As you know, I don't leave home a lot." He finally said.  
Christine showed him a big smile. She had never smiled at him that way before. It was an image he would treasure forever.  
Maybe it could be worth it to expose himself a little if it meant he could keep Christine in his life for a little longer.


	3. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Many know Christine, but few _know_ her.

Christine Daaé was well-known among all the opera house workers. Since she first started working there, as a mere chorus girl, she has always spent a lot of time there, beyond her performance and rehearsal hours. She seemed to know every corner of the building and talk to every worker.

Christine was known for her kindness. She was a good listener, always there to hear the stories of the older men who worked backstage and give advice to the younger ballerinas. However, when it came to herself, she was very reserved. No one ever heard her complaining about her own problems, or talking about her own feelings. If one was to think about it, she was a kind of a mystery in her own way.

Christine did enjoy company. She grew up in a small town, where she knew everyone by name. She loved hearing stories and having conversations about just anything. There was so much she could learn from people just listening to them. But she never wanted to bother anyone with the deep sadness that consumed her from when her father passed away. That was a burden that Christine was to carry on her own.

Until the Angel came.

Christine found he was easy to talk to. He talked little about himself, and always listened to her, and after the initial moments she found that with him, it was easy to speak, easy to just let out all that she held inside for so long.

Even if all was a farce, Erik knew secrets about her that she didn't share with anyone else. They shared so many moments, so many memories in the short time they knew each other. And he hurt her, hurt her much more than anyone, with his lies and his treats and his emotional play.

What hurt the most was that Christine had trusted him, and what they shared was something she could never have with anyone else.

As she made the way down to Erik's lair, she wondered again why she was doing it. She had no obligation to go back, she owed him nothing. More than it, she could see no good reason for wanting it, other than wanting to experience again the sweet feelings of their first meetings. Feelings that she knew she could not feel again, that were based on lies in the first place.

Still, she found herself drawn back to him.

 

Erik was now acting very different than he did the first time Christine has been to his lair. His politeness was a constant since then, but he was now much more distant, maybe somehow a bit cold.

Christine could not know, but if he before tried with everything he had to get at least one moment in her company, now, after being sure for a while that he would spend the rest of his miserable days alone, he wanted nothing to ruin this last unexpected blessing. And as nothing he did before worked, he was now decided to do nothing at all.

Christine awkwardly sipped on her tea, as he sat as far as he could from her.

Finally, as she didn't say anything, Erik decided to ask:

"Why are you not with the Vicomte?"

Christine sighed.

"I don't want to talk about this."

"Then what do you want to talk about?" Erik asked.

"May I ask a question?"

"A question?" Anything could come from it. Christine and her curiosity. But what would drive her away first, the dark secrets he hid or his refusal to answer? "Go ahead."

"What is your name?" Christine asked the question that hadn't left her mind ever since their first actual meaning.

Erik gave her a questioning look.

"What do you mean?"

"You told me that you got the name 'Erik' by chance. What does it even mean?" Christine smiled, trying to keep the mood light. She wanted to chat, not to make an interrogation.

Erik lowered his gaze.

"Not everyone has the privilege of keeping their birth identity." He said, his voice strangely dull for a moment. Christine felt a shiver, there was no emotion there, and it was so unlike Erik. But it went back to its usual melancholic tone as he spoke the next sentence. "I never felt any attachment to my birth name. No one ever used it. I grew up a nameless creature. But eventually, even I saw the need of it, I was tired of being 'the monster', 'the corpse'. I wanted to be someone. I wanted to be a man too!"

Erik's voice raised at every word, and he too rose from his seat, his hands moving together with his speech.

Seeing Christine stare at him with an intimidated look seemed to bring him back to the present. He sat back on, eyes downcast.

"As for how I got this name, it's a long story." He continued, his voice now calm. "I ended up taking another man's identity- he was already dead! And I got attached to it. It's boring, really."

"I want to listen." Christine said, smiling. His outburst scared her for a moment, but she didn't want to talk about it.

Neither did Erik, it seemed.

He hesitated.

"I want to get to know you, Erik. Tell me a bit of your story."

Erik took a deep breath. He had never shared much of himself, with anyone. Well, there was Nadir, but this was different. Nadir was only, well, Nadir. Christine meant the world for him.

It would have been easier to just make up some nice story, if only she wasn't staring at him with her beautiful blue eyes.

"I was born in France." He started. Christine nodded. "I left my parents' house when I was still a child."

He expected her to ask for more details. As it didn't happen, he continued.

"I learned music, and tricks. Magic tricks."

"You can do magic tricks?"

Erik nodded.

"And I was said to be pretty good." He said, somehow proud of himself. The euphemism sounded strange even for him, but he was nervous and unsure of what to say.

"Who taught you?"

At this, his eyes grew darker.

"Someone who isn't in my life anymore."

"I'm sorry."

He shook his head.

"I travelled with a group. It was nice, while it lasted."

Again, he waited for a question. Christine only nodded.

"I made my way to the East, where I... got separated from them. Things got dangerous, so I had to learn how to defend myself." He paused, his hands going to the neck of his shirt. Was it always this hard to breathe? "I ended up in Persia. Made a few friends, a lot of enemies. Had to run away from there."

He couldn't look at Christine right now. No, someone as pure as her could never know of all the horrors that happened in Persia. Breathing was way too hard now, it was like he couldn't get enough air. He would rip off his mask if Christine wasn't right there.

"Then I made my way back to Europe, and here I am."

Christine gave him a worried look, as she noticed his breathing accelerating. She had no idea of how to help him, or even of what was happening to him. Maybe she should distract him.

"How did you end up here?" She asked.

"France is my homeland. It felt like a safe choice." He said, finally raising his eyes to her. He caught her giving the most adorable smile.

"I meant, here in the opera."

"Ah." He lowered his eyes again. "It's fitting, isn't it? Music. Darkness. I find it fitting."

"You have a palace down here." Now that Christine could pay attention to it without fear, she realized just how impressive it was for such a place to be hidden underground, beneath the opera.

"Yes, a palace of my own underworld kingdom. It's a good thing I was never too found of windows."

His chest started aching. Erik was now hyperventilating.

"Erik?"

He raised his hand. How her questions hurt, how her sweet voice tortured him. It was too hard being on the spotlight. Erik had his moments, when he was younger. Now he only wanted to work from the shadows. It suited him better. Why must Christine force him to the spotlight, asking about things he didn't want to remember? Why must she wish to know?

It was like the unmasking all over again. She wanted to know and now she did. Every layer that she peeled away made him feel lower and lower. She must be laughing right now, at how he panicked over the things he could not change. She was right there, but he refused to acknowledge her voice calling him.

Why was she still there, anyway? Why didn't she just leave him already in his underworld prison, to rot away in that house with no windows and no sunlight? That was not the place for her, that was a place for only monsters like him. The tomb that he made for himself, where he would die as he lived: alone and unloved.

"Erik, please!" Christine sobbed.

Erik realized that he was on the floor. His mask was thrown aside, and his vision was cloudy from tears. He didn't remember how he ended up there in such a state.

The strangest part was that Christine was still there, holding him in her arms, crying.

He raised his hands, not knowing where to leave them.

"Christine..."

"It's alright, it's alright..." she whispered. "God, you scared me!"

She released him, but he held her arms in place.

"Can... can we stay like this for a while longer?"

Christine nodded, wrapping her arms around him again.

He cried.

It was the first time someone held him like that.


End file.
